


Like Hell and Heaven

by ChocolateCapCookie



Series: Cookie's Stocking Fills [16]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Protective Tony Stark, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:28:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29286816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolateCapCookie/pseuds/ChocolateCapCookie
Summary: “I feel great now, though,” said Steve, lifting the sheets up to peer at his leg, which looked almost normal. “Can I leave?”“Steve, we watched you almost die. Just… listen to the doctors, okay? Just this once.”
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Cookie's Stocking Fills [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2161581
Comments: 1
Kudos: 82
Collections: POTS (18+) Stony Stocking 2020





	Like Hell and Heaven

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DepressingGreenie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DepressingGreenie/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [DepressingGreenie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DepressingGreenie/pseuds/DepressingGreenie) in the [stony_stocking_2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/stony_stocking_2020) collection. 



“Oh god,” said Tony. “Oh god, oh fuck, oh _god_.”

“So I’m guessing that means I’m not doing good?”

“This is no time for jokes, Steve,” Tony snapped. “Oh, _fuck_.”

“What is it?” Steve demanded. He tried to sit up to see the injury on his leg for himself, but it hurt to sit up.

“Okay, okay, okay, I can do this,” Tony said, seemingly more to comfort himself than to comfort Steve. “Okay, Steve, so this is probably going to hurt — what the fuck am I saying, of _course_ it’s going to hurt — but I need you to keep still, okay?”

“Tony, what the hell are you talking about—”

That was all Steve remembered before the world turned black.

“What I want to know is how I spent _five days_ unconscious. Nothing can knock me out for that long. And _why_ was I out, anyway?”

“Nothing except ice, maybe,” Clint sniggered, but quietened down when both Steve and Tony turned to glare at him.

“Well, you already know the part about the knife stuck in your leg,” said Helen Cho, consulting her notes at the side of Steve’s hospital bed. “Actually, I’m not sure how much you know — what’s the last thing you remember before waking up here, Captain?”

“We got to the safehouse, and everything hurt. Tony said he could fix my leg, and I remember a flash of pain. That’s about it.”

“I didn’t say I could _fix_ it,” Tony mumbled, but Dr. Cho silenced him.

“The pain was because your flesh had already started growing around the embedded knife,” said Dr. Cho matter-of-factly, like this was an everyday occurrence for her. “Normally, the medically sound thing to do would be to keep any objects that are impaled in the body inside until you reach a hospital, because it helps minimize blood loss. In your case, however, Mr. Stark was forced to pull the knife out before it became permanently fused to your leg.”

“So… I’m okay?”

“No.” She looked at him severely. “You almost bled to death, and we didn’t have enough blood on hand to give you. Your knife wound — both the first one and the one caused when it was pulled out — were severely infected and required major surgery to correct, which is why you were ‘out’ for so long. In fact, Captain Roger, I believe the only reason you still have your leg at all is because of the serum.”

Steve stared at her. “Oh.”

“I don’t think ‘oh’ is the appropriate reaction here, Steve,” said Tony. He was seated next to Steve’s bed, as close as he could possibly get to Steve without climbing onto the bed itself.

“I feel great now, though,” said Steve, lifting the sheets up to peer at his leg, which looked almost normal. “Can I leave?”

“No!” yelled the room, almost in chorus. Natasha picked up the slack. “Steve, we watched you almost die. Just… listen to the doctors, okay? Just this once.”

“And you feel great because you’re pumped to the brim with morphine,” said Cho severely, “Tell me if you feel the same when it wears off.”

Steve looked around him. Everyone did seem a bit more harried and stressed than usual, Tony especially. Only Clint was relaxing on the couch, but then again, practically nothing could ever faze Clint.

“Okay,” he sighed, lying back in bed. “Okay. It’s just a few more days right?”

A few days of rest never killed anyone.

Less than 24 hours later, Steve was seriously considering applying to be the first person who’d died after having a ‘few days of rest’, but he probably wouldn’t qualify given how little rest he was actually resting. And all of this was Tony’s fault.

Steve really was in pain, a lot of it. He appreciated the wisdom Natasha and Cho had in making him stay here. But he was Steve Rogers. He was never going to admit that, not to anyone.

And after the third time Tony offered to wipe his face with a hot towel, it got to be a little too much.

“Tony,” he said, as Tony bustled around at the foot of Steve’s bed, fussing about his sheets, “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?” he asked innocently, smoothing the sheets of Steve’s bed behind his back.

“You’re being so… _nice_ to me,” Steve said weakly. “It’s… weird.”

“You almost died because of me,” said Tony, his voice low now, with no trace of amusement in it. “The least I can do is help you feel better.”

“I feel great,” Steve lied obstinately. He didn’t feel great, not at all. His leg was throbbing so badly he could barely stand it, and every part of his body was exhausted. “And you saved my life, Tony. I’d have a third foot if it wasn’t for you.”

“Well then, let’s say I’m horribly shaken up by your accident and the fact that I had to pull a knife out of fresh skin, and I’m traumatized by how close you came to losing your leg. Staying here and offering to help is the only way I can feel better. Happy now?” He looked at Steve, a fiery challenge in his eyes for a moment, but then sighed, all the bluster taken out of his sails.

“I… I’m sorry Tony,” said Steve haltingly. Under the layer of constant pain, Steve felt an overwhelming wave of guilt wash over him. Tony had done so much for him; was it so hard for Steve to lie down like a good little boy and accept his pampering?

“Nothing to be sorry for,” said Tony, smiling slightly before standing up and walking to the other end of the bed, lifting Steve’s blanket to reveal his hurt leg. “Now, where does it hurt?”

“Tony, you don’t have to—”

“Maybe I don’t, but I want to. Where does it hurt, Steve?”

Steve showed him, trying to hide his pain at even that small movement, and Tony proceeded to lay his leg on a pile of blankets he’d grabbed from god knows where. “Shouldn’t be any pressure,” he mumbled to himself. Steve closed his eyes, just for a moment, but he was dazed and woozy and when he opened them again, the room was much darker and, out of nowhere, Tony was at Steve’s side again. He smiled when he saw Steve’s open eyes

“How d’you feel?”

Steve answered by pulling him in for a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> I know I veered slightly off-prompt, but I hope you like it anyway, greenie!
> 
> Signed, a huge, huge HUGE fan of all of your work


End file.
